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on the power of showing up

note: I wrote this post in April of 2019 (pre-COVID). It's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, but I think it's time for it to see the light of day. It's been helpful for me to reread over the past few months, especially as I continue to try to make an effort to write, and I hope it can be helpful to you, too. i got an invite to a writers' group a few months ago, and i had never felt like more of a fraud in my life. it had been months, if not years, since i'd felt like a writer. the proverbial well of words in my heart had dried up, it seemed, and i wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. i agreed to go out of a sense of helplessness—i'd identified as a writer ever since i could remember. if i'm not a writer, who am i?  i told myself that it was important to show up and act like a writer even when i didn't feel like one, because even though i hadn't been writing, i reassured myself, i still was a writer. but sometimes the words f

for the dreamers.

When I was little, I wanted to be an inventor.

I kept thinking of ways I could make things better, make things different. Change the world.

I used to think it was weird that I could find amusement in staring at anything and everything. Or that I pretended I was somewhere else. My imagination was on overdrive then. Still is.

I used to think it was strange that I felt hope and joy in the most ordinary things. Staring out my window for example. Pretending I was someone else, somewhere else. Dreaming about extraordinary in the midst of my daily life.

Lately, I've discovered I'm a dreamer. It's when I'm dreaming that I feel alive. It's when I'm dreaming that I feel like... me. I've been trying to "grow up" and stuff down my imagination, but God's been showing me that it's okay to be a dreamer. And really, maybe that wasn't as weird as I had once thought.

So this is for the dreamers. The ones who think they're alone. They're the ones with stardust in their eyes as they sit and look for beauty in everything. Those who think that reality is a lovely place, but they wouldn't want to live there.

This is for the ones who love. Who love deeply. Fully. Who believe that life is more than just what we can see. The ones who believe that there's a Man out there who loves perfectly. Completely. Truly.

This is for the artists. The whimsical, creative types. The ones who can't help but paint, whether it's with paintbrushes, canvases, or words. The ones who return full circle to find out that they are indeed dreamers, and lovers, and artists. All at the same time.

Life isn't perfect, but it can be wonderful. Thank you to the dreamers for making the world a better place.

This is for you. And for me. And for all of those who dream.

Even though you may feel it, you're not strange. There are thousands of others like you.

You're not alone.

Comments

  1. "It's when I'm dreaming that I feel alive. It's when I'm dreaming that I feel like... me. I've been trying to "grow up" and stuff down my imagination, but God's been showing me that it's okay to be a dreamer."

    I love that. Extraordinary. =)

    ReplyDelete
  2. oh sky this post is beautiful and thankyou. it makes me feel happy and blessed to live and be alive. dream dream dream.

    ReplyDelete
  3. ::sigh:: that's beautiful luce, it's true, "reality is a lovely place.....but I wouldn't want to live there,"........

    ReplyDelete
  4. Something about the song Vanilla Twilight comes to mind with this post.

    And then to think. Where would this world be without the Jules Vernes, the Albert Einsteins, the Gandhis, the people who dared to dream. Martin Luther King Jr. The main man with a dream. What a miserable world this would be without dreams...

    ReplyDelete

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